


Things Do Not Change; We Change

by unlmtdsky



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Biotic Shepard (Mass Effect), Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Colonist (Mass Effect), Consensual Underage Sex, F/M, Fluff, Grief, Injury, Mindoir, Pre-Mass Effect 1
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:49:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26305879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unlmtdsky/pseuds/unlmtdsky
Summary: A story of the events on Mindoir that forever shaped my colonist-background/biotic Commander Jane Shepard.
Relationships: Female Shepard (Mass Effect)/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	Things Do Not Change; We Change

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: The first chapter of this story does involve two 16-year-olds having sex for the first time. It is clear that it happens, but I kept it fairly vague. And it is definitely consensual. But if any mention of teenagers having sex at all bothers you, I guess skip this one.
> 
> A/N: The events of this story are referenced as a flash of memories in the completed piece, “Next Time... Wake Me.” I’ll probably link them in a series at some point later once this story is finished.

* * *

_  
“Things do not change; we change.”_ — Henry David Thoreau  
  


* * *

  
The day that would change Jane forever started much as any other.

Mindoir’s bright sun shone high overhead, and a hot breeze ruffled Jane’s long dark red hair as she made her way through the woods. She stuck to the shade of the trees as much as possible, walking at a leisurely pace. It was summertime, so Jane was afforded free reign of her afternoons after helping her father around the farm in the mornings. No one was going to look for her until dinner, and since the days on Mindoir were long, especially in the summer, she had many hours of freedom ahead of her.

Jane knew the route to her destination by heart, so she let her mind wander as she tread carefully over the stones and branches that littered the forest floor. She loved being outdoors and exploring more than almost anything else; the fresh, exotic scent of Mindoir’s native flora and the distant sounds from the colony were both familiar and a comfort to her. Jane had grown up here. She knew nothing else except the colony, her family’s farm situated on the outskirts of the main settlement, and the woods and meadows of the unsettled areas just beyond. She had never left Mindoir and didn’t really see why she would ever have to need to: everyone and everything she knew and loved were right here.

_Including Philip._

Jane felt her cheeks heat slightly as her thoughts drifted towards Philip, whom she was on her way to meet. They had grown up together on Mindoir, both of them only children with no siblings to serve as automatic friends—so they had been naturally drawn to each other. Philip’s mother worked as a nurse in the settlement’s medical center, and his father taught Earth history and literature at the colony’s secondary school, which she and Philip both attended. Mr. Somerset’s literature class was not one of Jane’s favorite classes—she usually couldn’t be bothered to sit still long enough to focus on reading a book—but she had known the Somersets for forever and didn’t want to disappoint them, so she applied herself as diligently to the study of literature as she did to her preferred subjects of physics and mathematics. Her own mother, who was a botanist, was going to help arrange an internship for her at one of the colony’s science labs next year.

Philip, on the other hand, had absolutely inherited a love of literature from his father and was never found without at least one physical book on his person. Paper books were a rarity in the colony, given the cost of transporting items from Earth, but Mr. Somerset had brought a small collection when they’d come to Mindoir. It had always baffled Jane since they had ready access to vast digital libraries on their datapads, but Philip always insisted that he felt closer to the authors and their stories when he could touch the pages of their books with his bare hands, and who was she to argue with that? Whereas Jane was a bit more adventurous and pragmatic in her approach to the world, Philip was a hopeless romantic and a dreamer, and she certainly wasn’t going to fault him for it—in fact, she loved him for it.

 _She loved him_.

She’d never actually told him as much, not in so many words anyway, but she knew that she did. What she didn’t know was whether he felt quite the same way about her. He _liked_ her, of course—they’d been best friends for forever and had even been officially dating for over a year. But did he _love_ her? She wasn’t sure. Jane liked who she was when she was around Philip. It was in her nature to try and take on the world, to rush boldly into things, always looking for the next challenge and adventure. Philip taught her to slow down, to be more introspective, and to see the beauty in the world around her. He brought out something softer in her, cultivating a part of her that she had trouble finding on her own.

It was for Philip that she had changed into a dress today instead of just showing up to meet him wearing her typical work tunic and trousers. She had spent the morning with her father out in their fields, helping him tend the rows of wheat and corn they were growing to help feed the colony. Her mother did most of her work in their greenhouse, but Jane preferred working outside with her father in the fresh air and sunshine of the fields when she could. After finishing her chores, Jane had hurried inside to shower and change before meeting Philip. She had rinsed off the dirt and grime of the morning’s labor in their prefab home’s low-flow shower before wrapping herself in a white linen towel and heading to her room to change.

When she had entered her room, Jane paused to examine herself in front of her bedroom mirror. Her still-damp tresses, which hung in waves down to the small of her back, looked an even darker shade of red than normal, and her emerald green eyes seemed to shine brightly against her pale cheeks. Though it was almost always sunny on Mindoir, Jane never seemed to tan the way many other people on the colony did; her fair skin was prone to sunburn if she wasn’t careful, and being out in the sun only served to highlight the light brown freckles that were sprinkled over her nose and cheeks. People always told Jane that she looked just like her mother with her fair skin, dark red hair, and similarly-built slender frame, and Jane mostly agreed—but she had definitely inherited her vibrant green eyes from her father. Her mother’s were a rather drab brown color. Jane didn’t consider herself to be attractive at all (she thought she was a ‘plain Jane’ if ever there was one), but she did like that she could recognize both of her parents’ features reflected back at her when she looked at herself in the mirror. It made her feel like she always carried them with her.

She had approached her closet then and glimpsed the flash of yellow calling to her from amidst the dull colors of her typical clothing. It was the bright yellow sundress her mother had given her, ordered off the extranet and transported to Mindoir on the colony’s spring supply delivery. It was a gift for her 16th birthday, and Jane had been saving it for a special occasion. She wasn’t exactly sure why, but something about today felt different, and so she had decided to wear it. Her mother hadn’t commented on it as she left the house wearing the dress, only given her a strange, knowing smile and told her to be home in time for dinner.

But dinner was still many hours away, and even though Jane was walking through the shade of the woods, she could feel her skin growing damp with sweat in the heat of the summer afternoon. The thin fabric of her sundress was starting to cling to her skin, and she was glad when she quickly studied her surroundings and realized that she had almost reached her destination.

Philip had asked her to meet him at one of their favorite spots: a small pond nestled below a rocky outcropping in the woods that was located about a half-hour’s walk from the colony. It would take Philip a little longer to reach the pond since he had further to travel. The Somersets lived closer to the heart of the main settlement itself whereas Jane’s family lived on the outskirts, so she was likely to arrive a little before he did.

The beautiful little pond was Jane’s favorite place in the whole colony, and surprisingly, it had been Philip who had shown it to her, not the other way around. It had been on one of their first ‘dates,’ if you could call them that, back when they were 12 years old. He had told her that he had a surprise for her, that he had discovered a secret place they could call their own. Intrigued, of course, she had let him lead her to the secluded spot and even went so far as to let him blindfold her when they were close to their destination. She remembered how warm his hand had felt in hers as he led her the rest of the way, and when he finally removed the blindfold and told her he had named it Shepard’s Pond after her, she had leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. He had blushed furiously, and Jane smiled at the memory.

Jane slowed her pace as she neared the spot where she knew the rocky ground would give way to a ledge with a view of the pond below. She was always slightly wary as she approached, just in case she and Philip weren’t the only ones who had discovered the pond—because of course they had no way of confirming that its location was known to them alone. She stepped quietly towards the edge of the rocky outcropping and peered cautiously over the ledge, and she was surprised to see a figure already waiting down below.

He was lying in the grass next to a blanket, his nose in a book, so she had to yell down at him to get his attention. “Hey, Philip!”

The figure looked up, momentarily startled, then broke out in a wide grin as he set his book aside and clambered to his feet. “Jane!” he called back excitedly. “You made it!”

“Of course I did! Did you think I wouldn’t come?” She let out a laugh. “Let me come down to you,” she called, turning back to hurry down the path that circumvented the rocky ledge and sloped down and around to the pond below. When she came into sight of the pond again, Philip was standing where she had last seen him, his hands shoved casually into his pockets.

“You’re—you’re a little early,” he said somewhat shyly. Jane noticed self-consciously that his eyes seemed to linger on her as she approached him. Maybe wearing her new dress had been a bad idea?

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your very important reading,” she teased, brushing her own unease aside. “Since when do you get here before me, anyway?”

Philip rubbed at the back of his neck, a sheepish expression on his face. He didn’t say anything, only glanced down at his feet as if too embarrassed to speak.

Jane paused a few feet away from him, her brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s going on with you? You’re being weird,” she said.

“Am not,” he replied, bringing his eyes up to meet hers.

“Are too. Spill it,” she said, a determined look in her eye. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned back on one foot; it was the pose she assumed whenever she wanted something from someone and wasn’t going to leave it alone until she got it.

“I—uh—I did something for you,” he said finally, stepping to the side. She had seen the blanket spread out on the grass from her position up on the ledge a minute ago, but now that she was closer and he had moved aside, she could see that Philip had laid out a picnic for them. He had prepared sandwiches and brought several of her favorite fresh fruits, sweet fleshy things that were native to Mindoir but that her mother said were similar to peaches back on Earth. There was also a small bag of chocolates and a tall glass bottle with a label she couldn’t read from this distance. She unfolded her arms and let them fall to her sides as she took in the scene.

“You did this all for me?” she asked, her eyes finding his.

“Of course,” he replied, holding her gaze.

Jane stepped towards him then, closing the distance between them. Philip stood frozen in place as she approached.

“Thank you,” she said, reaching out and cupping his face with a hand. Her thumb grazed his cheek gently, then she leaned in close and pulled him towards her, pressing her mouth to his in a soft kiss. She let her lips linger for a long moment, then pulled away.

Jane could see the characteristic flush in Philip’s cheeks, and she smiled at him as she took a step backward. Even though they had officially been a couple for over a year now, Jane was pretty much always the one who kissed him first and Philip always flushed with embarrassment when she did.

“Come on, let’s eat. I’m starving,” she said, pulling him towards the blanket. She reached down and slipped off her shoes before stepping onto the blanket and sitting down, her legs folded to one side beneath her and the skirt of her yellow dress fanned out around her.

Philip kicked off his shoes as well and sat cross-legged across from her on the blanket. “That’s a pretty dress,” he said, his face flushing red again. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear it before.”

“Thank you. It’s new,” she replied. She thought he might ask her why she was wearing it, and she realized she wasn’t quite sure how she would answer that question.

But he didn’t say anything else for a long moment, and Jane was about to ask him yet _again_ why he was being so weird around her today, when he suddenly asked unnecessarily loudly, “Are you hungry?”

She almost jumped, she was so startled by the volume of his voice. The woods around them were practically silent and they were only sitting a few feet apart. He was definitely acting strangely. “Uhh, yeah. I said I was starving, didn’t I?” She grinned at him, then reached out and picked up one of the sandwiches.

He seemed to relax slightly, and he picked up the second sandwich for himself and set it on a plate in front of him.

“Oh, I brought us some wine,” he blurted suddenly, as if just remembering something important. He reached for the bottle Jane had noticed earlier and began to fumble with the seal.

Jane raised an eyebrow at him. “Wine? Where did _you_ get wine? And _why_?” she asked. Wine was a luxury most on the colony couldn’t afford. She had only seen her parents drink it once or twice.

He gave her a bashful look, then shrugged his shoulders. “I may have swiped this bottle from my father’s stash. He always keeps a few bottles around for really special occasions.”

“Look at you being a rebel,” she joked. “So… this is a really special occasion?”

“N—No! Of course not!” he answered quickly. “I, uh, just thought you might like to try some.”

“Calm down, I was just teasing you,” she said placatingly. Jane paused, studying him closely. “Are you sure you’re okay? You are acting really strange.”

He raked his fingers through his hair and let out a nervous laugh. “I’m sure. Everything’s fine. Let’s just eat.” He opened the bottle, then began pouring the contents into two glasses he had brought, filling them more than two-thirds to the rim.

“Woah there,” she laughed, reaching out and taking the bottle from him and setting it aside. “I think that’s plenty.” She carefully took one of the glasses from him, taking care not to slosh the contents. Jane cleared her throat in mock seriousness and raised the glass as if preparing to make a toast, a gesture she thought she had remembered seeing on some vid or another. He raised his glass as well and waited for her to speak.

“I’d like to make a toast to this beautiful picnic,” she began, looking into his dark brown eyes, “and to Philip, the sweetest guy I know.”

He gazed back into her eyes, and Jane was surprised at how serious his expression was. “To Jane, my best friend and the most beautiful girl in the whole galaxy,” he said. Now it was Jane’s turn to blush furiously.

“To us,” she said quickly, trying to hide her self-consciousness.

“To us,” he echoed. They paused for a moment, both of them looking into the other’s eyes, then they simultaneously took a sip from their glasses. Jane’s eyes widened in surprise as she tasted the sweet, fruity wine.

“This is delicious!” she exclaimed in delight. “What is it?”

“Strawberry wine. It was apparently my mom’s favorite back on Earth. That’s why my dad always keeps some around,” he said.

“Well, tell your mom she has great taste,” Jane said. Then she quickly added, “Actually, since you stole this, maybe don’t tell her that.” Philip just laughed and took another sip.

Things became more comfortable as they dug into their food, and whatever awkwardness had initially existed quickly faded as they fell into familiar topics of conversation. Jane talked about the latest botany work her mother was doing in their greenhouse, developing more productive and hearty strains of crops that could help better sustain the colony. And Philip told her stories of his own mother’s work in the colony’s clinic, including a hilarious anecdote he made her promise not to repeat about their biology teacher and a varren that had them both doubled over with laughter. They talked long after their sandwiches and the fruit were gone, and they continued talking after they had shared the bag of chocolates Philip had brought, delicious truffles that were half melted by the summer heat even before they had begun to eat them. Their wine glasses were emptied and then quickly refilled, and that probably also contributed to the relaxed atmosphere between them as the afternoon dragged on.

Eventually, Jane tipped her glass nearly upside down, drinking the last of its contents. She laughed brightly, then set the glass aside.

“That. Was. Lovely.” Jane said the words in a slightly dreamy voice, certainly an aftereffect of the wine, leaving a slight pause between each one as if she had to think about what word she was going to say next. She still had her wits about her, but there was a slight fuzziness to her thoughts that was rather pleasant.

Philip just laughed, setting his own still half-full glass aside. He looked at her and said seriously, “ _You’re_ lovely.”

“That’s the third time you’ve done that,” Jane replied, eyeing him suspiciously now.

“Done what?”

“Complimented me.”

“Jane, I—”

She interrupted him before he could continue. Her thoughts were clear now. “First you said my dress was pretty.” She held up a finger. “Then you said I was beautiful.” Her cheeks flushed and she held up a second finger. “And just now you said I was lovely.” She added a third finger. Jane wasn’t entirely sure where she was going with this, only that Philip had been acting somewhat out of character all afternoon, and she was determined to root out why.

“Jane, listen to me,” Philip said, shifting suddenly and sitting up so that he was kneeling in front of her. He reached out and took her hands, pulling her up into a kneeling position in front of him. They were only about a foot apart now, and he didn’t let go of her, holding her hands between them. His thumbs moved gently back and forth, caressing the skin on the back of her hands in a tender gesture.

Jane’s emerald eyes widened slightly as she just stared into Philip’s deep brown ones. Her thoughts were racing wildly, but she remained quiet, sensing that something important was about to happen.

“Jane, you have to know how much you mean to me. You know me better than anyone else. You’ve been my best friend for forever. And I think you’re absolutely beautiful—the most beautiful girl in the galaxy.” She tried not to squirm self-consciously at his words. He was saying such pretty things to her, but his compliments clashed with her own perceptions of herself. She glanced away, breaking eye contact, but he reached out to brush a lock of her red hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. Then he placed his hand on her cheek, drawing her gaze back to meet his. “You _are_. And I just need you to know…” He paused, closing his eyes for a moment as he took in a deep breath, as if needing to steel himself for something before opening them again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” The words were out of her mouth almost before Philip had finished saying them to her. Of course she loved him, she already knew that she did. She didn’t even have to think about it because she already _had_ thought about it, well, a lot. She just hadn’t been sure that he felt the same way about her until now.

The grin that broke across Philip’s face caused Jane’s heart to swell with happiness. He leaned forward, then, and pressed his lips to hers. He was kissing her this time, and this kiss was different from the ones they usually shared. There was something deeper, more desperate about it, and as Jane felt his mouth move against hers, she opened for him, tilting her head slightly so that their mouths slanted together at a better angle. She brought up a hand and placed it on the back of his neck, letting her fingers play with the short hairs there as his tongue dipped into her mouth.

They kissed like that for what might have been several long minutes or an hour, she wasn’t sure, and when Philip’s lips left Jane’s mouth and began a slow journey along her jaw, her eyes fluttered closed. He trailed kisses down her neck and pressed his lips to her collarbone. She felt her heart start to race as a blazing warmth began to blossom in her chest. When Philip’s fingers closed around the thin strap of her sundress and began to slide it down over her shoulder, her eyes flew open and she pulled back in surprise.

“Jane, I’m so sorry, I thought—” he rushed to apologize, jerking his hand away from her shoulder suddenly.

“No! Philip, it’s fine—”

“Jane, we don’t have to. If you don’t want—”

In their nervousness, they were fumbling for words, cutting off each other’s sentences as they danced around what was building between them. Jane finally slid both of her hands to Philip’s face and drew him in for a kiss, cutting him off. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and leaned her forehead against his.

“I’m just nervous is all,” she said, letting out a slightly shaky breath. “I do want to. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he replied. “So much.”

And he made love to her then, laying her down on the soft blanket in the late afternoon shade beneath the trees next to Shepard’s Pond. He was careful with her and gentle, whispering sweet words in her ear that helped to soothe her nerves as much as did the caress of the warm summer breeze on her bare skin. It was tentative and awkward and sweet and all sorts of other adjectives Jane was sure she would think of later when her heart and mind weren’t so overwhelmed with emotion.

Afterwards, once they had helped each other back into their clothes, they lay quietly together, neither one speaking for a long while. Philip was stretched out on the blanket, leaning back against a pack he had brought, and Jane was curled next to him, resting comfortably against his shoulder as his arm curved around her. Jane could feel her racing heartbeat beginning to slow as she took deliberate, steadying breaths. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, and it wasn’t even quiet, really. Her mind was full of so many unspoken thoughts about how things had changed between them. About how suddenly tomorrow looked so different. About how _she_ was suddenly different. She was sure that Philip, introspective dreamer that he was, was lost in thoughts of his own, so she cast around for some way to bring them both out of their respective solitudes.

Jane glanced around and spotted the book that Philip had been reading when he was waiting for her to arrive earlier in the day. She could see the cover now: it was a slightly battered-looking copy of _Walden_ by Henry David Thoreau. It was one of Philip’s favorites, a book she knew his father had given to him and one that he carried around often.

“Will you read to me?” she asked, shifting slightly to look up at Philip. He looked down at her and gave her a crooked smile.

“You want me to read to you right now?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“Because you don’t like reading,” he said teasingly, laughing at her.

She let out a breathy laugh of her own. “Of course I do!” A raised eyebrow was the only response he gave her. “Okay, fine. But _you_ like reading and I like you—so here.” Jane sat up so she could reach over and pick up the book, careful to use her finger as a bookmark, holding the page Philip had last been reading when he’d set the book down.

Jane handed the book to Philip, then settled in next to him as he wrapped his arm back around her. He propped open his book on his chest with his other hand, carefully holding the pages open so they didn’t flutter in the breeze. He began to read to her, and Jane let her eyes drift closed as she listened to the soothing sound of his voice.

_“I weathered some merry snow storms, and spent some cheerful winter evenings by my fire-side, while the snow whirled wildly without, and even—”_

“What do you think snow feels like?” Jane asked suddenly, interrupting him. He laughed, and Jane knew it was because she couldn’t let him finish even an entire sentence before she wanted to ask a question. Quiet, sustained reading had always been more his thing than hers. She didn’t move but kept her head resting against his shoulder as she waited for his answer.

“Well, I’ve seen it in vids, of course...” he began slowly. “Fluffy white flakes drifting gently down from the sky or maybe ‘whirling wildly’ if it’s a blizzard. The snow eventually covers the ground and trees and everything all in white. It’s beautiful,” he finished. But Jane wasn’t satisfied; he had given her an answer, but it wasn’t exactly to the question she had asked.

“Yeah, I’ve seen the vids, too. But what do you think it _feels_ like?”

“Hmm. I don’t know. It barely even rains here. Probably cold?”

Jane swatted his arm playfully. “You’re no fun.” He pretended to flinch, then squeezed her closer to him.

“Okay, fine, clever one. What do _you_ think it feels like?”

Jane was quiet for a long moment, thinking. “I think… I think it might feel like loneliness.”

She felt him shift beside her, and when she glanced up at him, he was looking down at her with a slightly amused expression.

“That’s awfully poetic coming from you. Care to elaborate?”

Jane sighed. “I was just thinking of all the vids I’ve ever seen of snow. It’s usually dark and desolate and quiet—too quiet. Like all the sound is muffled. And in a blizzard, sometimes you can’t even see someone standing a few feet away because of the snow. I’m used to hearing the noise of the colony and running in wide open fields in the summer heat and sunshine. When I picture myself in the middle of a snowstorm, I think I’d just feel alone.”

Philip didn’t say anything for a long minute, reflecting on what she had said. “Well good thing it never snows on Mindoir, then. Plus, I’m here. You don’t ever have to feel alone.”

“You can keep going now.”

“What?”

“I interrupted you before,” Jane said, struggling to hide a yawn. “Keep reading. I want to hear more.”

He chuckled softly, pressed a kiss to the top of her head, then resumed reading where he had left off. Jane closed her eyes again and listened, letting his words drift over her. They lay together like that for a long while as he continued to read to her. She felt happy. Peaceful. Like there was nothing in the galaxy that could ruin this perfect afternoon.

_“...a perennial waveless serenity reigns as in the amber twilight sky, corresponding to the cool and even temperament of the inhabitants. Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.”_

“Mmm, I like that last bit,” Jane murmured sleepily.

“Oh, yeah?” he asked her quietly, gently running his fingers through her hair.

“Yeah. Keep reading.” 

So he did. Philip kept reading aloud until he suspected that Jane had fallen asleep, her breaths coming slow and steady. When he paused and she didn’t react, he continued reading silently to himself until sleep dragged him under, too, the book falling closed on his chest.

The pair dozed together peacefully by their secret pond until the sun began to sink towards the horizon. They dozed until the temperature began to drop as the sky above started to darken with the setting sun. And they dozed until the breeze shifted, bringing the acrid scent of smoke and the muffled sounds of distant gunfire.

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus points to readers who can guess what book the name Philip Somerset is referencing! (Hint: It’s a combo of the names of the author and protagonist of my favorite novel)


End file.
